Wresting Control
by dirtylittlesexrets
Summary: Randy's having a hard time coming to terms with something and after a shaking encounter with Hunter, John comes around to offer some 'comfort'. This story contains explicit Centon sex. Starts with a non-consensual spanking of an adult. One-shot.


Obligatory Disclaimer about not owning or making money and being made purely for fan entertainment.

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><p><strong>Wresting Control<strong>

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><p>Randy couldn't recall exactly how he had ended up in this situation. One moment he had been laughing his heart out with Ted and Cody at the expense of Hunter and Shawn. The next, his world was flipped upside down rather violently as his old mentor yanked him down by the arm and over his knee.<p>

...Wait, what? Knee? Randy jerked backwards in an attempt to pull away, but to no avail. Hunter had him pinned down with one arm. Infuriated, he flailed his limbs and kicked out, trying desperately to get out of the hold. Still, the older wrestler didn't let up one ounce, holding him down over his knee as if it were the easiest thing in the world. The fucking man even used his own flailing to tip the Viper forward so that his head nearly connected with the floor, his ass up high in the air.

"What the hell, man? Let me—OW!" Randy's yell of surprise and pain was probably heard all the way down the hall when he felt a firm, callused hand connect with his spandex-covered rear. Jerking, he twisted his head around to glare up disbelievingly at Hunter, who grinned down at him.

"I'm sick of your attitude lately, Randy." Hunter explained, his tone so serious in comparison to his expression that it took a moment for the Viper to wrap his head completely around it, "I want it to stop. You can't just be an asshole every time something doesn't go your way. That's not going to change anything and you know it."

His hand came down again, making the younger wrestler yelp once more. Where the hell were Ted and Cody in all of this? He needed help getting away from this maniac, for God's sake! As Hunter's hand started raining down at a quick but steady pace, Randy tried to steel himself against the onslaught. He turned his head in attempt at locating the other two thirds of Legacy and block out what was happening to his rear end. Much to his dismay, however, both boys _and_ Shawn were no where to be seen. Which likely meant that HBK had dragged the two out of the room or something of that nature, because they would never leave him here willingly.

Right?

"Ahh—OW!" Randy's mind was taken off the issue entirely as the only barrier between his bare skin and Hunter's hand was yanked down before the man started his onslaught again. This time with heavier and faster smacks. "Hunter! STOP! Shit—!"

"I don't think so, buddy. See, you've had this coming for a long time, today especially. So I'm just gonna keep beating your ass until the message sinks in loud and clear." The response made Randy's stomach clench, "By the way. You are _seriously_ toned, pup. I'm impressed. Isn't tomorrow your legs day? I'd change it to rest if I were you. But hey, that's just me."

Randy groaned, biting down hard on his lower lip and snaking his arm around Hunter's calf. There was nothing else to grab in the vicinity and this painful humiliation had been going on for ages. He needed _something _to channel all the shit he felt into, even if that meant showing Hunter just how much it was getting to him_._ A small chuckle was heard from the man attacking his ass at the action, knowing as well as he did that, other then the few cries that had escaped in his surprise earlier, Randy wasn't going to make much noise. His pride was far too great for him to even think about yelling or being loud—especially in a building that was swarming with wrestlers and crew at the top of the hour where RAW was just finishing up.

Instead, his grip tightened slowly but surely on the older man's leg until Hunter was almost certain circulation was going to be cut off. Low hisses and gasps escaped Randy's lips as he squirmed. His muscles tensed more with every smack that connected, the sound it made in the empty locker room making him flinch. Where he had previously been kicking out, his legs were still, either too tired or too painful to jerk around anymore—or their owner had just given into the fact that he wasn't getting anywhere with it. He didn't know what to do or say to make Hunter stop, so he refrained from saying anything at all. Part of him wondered if Hunter would just keep at it until his ass was black and blue.

Yet, miraculously, the onslaught seemed to slow down a bit before the older man spoke up again, "Alright, I know your head is probably a little jumbled right now so I'm gonna make this simple. You want off my lap, you gotta promise to stop being such a self-entitled asshole all the time and start acting more like the man I know you're capable of being."

Randy shook his head in disbelief. There was no way he was going to start doing anything off what Hunter, of all people, said. Every part of his mind wanted to scream at the other male and tell him to fuck off. Yet, given his position, it didn't seem like a wise idea. Hunter didn't seem like he would mind waiting until the fiery pain in his rear changed his victim's mind, so fighting wouldn't do shit.

"Ah-haaowww!" He must have been quiet for too long, because suddenly Hunter's hand was connecting rapidly with his upper thighs and the under curve of his ass, igniting yet more horrible discomfort. He would have been glad for the change had it not proved to be more painful this way, "H-Hunter! Stop—ow!—Stop it! _Please!_"

"You know what I want, Randal." Fuck, he hated being called that. Twisting his head from side to side, Randy felt his eyes start burning with unshed tears and tried to even out his ragged breathing. The humiliation of the entire situation was too much to handle, but he would be damned if he started crying like some little kid.

"Fine! Nnngh—I promise!" Hunter's hand move back up to his sore ass cheeks, once again slowing down in pace. Waiting for more, Randy realized. Damn—"I-I promise to stop being an asshole!"

"And start acting more like the respectful young man I used to know?"

"YES!"

"...Alright, then." Landing five more hellishly strong and fast smacks that made Randy howl, the older man yanked his wrestling gear back into place and released the hold on his waist.

It seemed to take a second before the younger male realized that he was free before he shoved away from Hunter's lap and back into a stand with a sharp hiss. He stumbled back several paces until his back hit the wall across from his old mentor. Hands clenched at his sides, Randy directed his attention somewhere—anywhere—other then the man in front of him. His breathing came out in short, ragged pants that he was trying and failing to even out. Eyes still burning, Randy closed them and tried to come to terms with what had just occurred.

Paul—Hunter—had sp... Had just... He couldn't even say it in his own mind without mortification stopping the thought. How could this happen to him? Grown men didn't—ugh.

"Hey, pup." The soft tone in the others voice surprised Randy into opening his eyes. He was met immediately with a cool washcloth, "you're a good guy, Randy. A good friend. Just because the storyline is gonna change doesn't mean your boys will."

Numbly, he nodded before Hunter clapped him on the shoulder and left the room with a faint smile. Alone, Randy let his face twist into a grimace of sorts and moved towards the showers. His free hand came up to swipe viciously at his eyes, furious with himself for being so effected by what had happened. He resisted the urge to rub his ass and turned the water on cold in hope of soothing the burning sting. Randy kept his back towards the wall, a wary eye held in the direction of the locker room as he thought of the possible people who might come in. When no one showed, however, he tried to relax and rested the washcloth across his eyes, attempting to remind himself that this wasn't the main locker room.

He stayed that way for a few minutes before a cough snapped him back to reality. Head whipping down from where he had tilted it back, Randy caught the washcloth as it fell and stared with wide eyes in the direction of the locker room. Almost immediately, he relaxed upon seeing one John Cena standing in the entryway of the showers, brow creased in the slightest sign of worry. Taking a deep breath, Randy looked down at the tiles on the floor then back up at John, uncertain of what to do. It wasn't everyday someone walked into another wrestler showering while _facing_ the door, boyfriend or not.

Feeling his cheeks start to burn, he opened his mouth to say something but the older male raised a hand and shook his head, "Don't worry about it, I'll keep watch til you're finished."

Randy blinked in surprise at the statement. It never failed to amaze him how easily the other male could swoop in to his rescue. No matter how many times he fucked up or how horrible he acted, John was always there to save him without asking any questions or expecting any answers. It was hard to believe and at times incredibly frustrating, but Randy didn't question it now. He just gave what he hoped was a decent smile and nodded his thanks. As soon as the other had turned his back, he tilted is head up again and replaced the cloth.

Before, he had resisted the urge to rub his ass due to the risk of being snuck up on and caught in the middle of such a ridiculous act. However, knowing that John was right outside watching for anyone else made him relax further. A faint feeling of security overcame him and one hand hesitantly inched back to gently massage one cheek, then the other. He hissed slightly at the contact as it reignited throbs of pain but did it anyway, somehow feeling better for it.

"Turn around." John again startled the third generation superstar, but before he could do more then flinch a large hand grasped his shoulder evenly and another pressed down on the washcloth over his eyes to keep it from falling, "Careful there, champ."

"John..." Randy breathed out, suddenly nervous at the close proximity. Not to mention the idea of turning for him to see whatever damage had been left behind by Hunter. "What about the door?"

"I locked it. Now, come on. Turn around." Biting down on his lower lip, the younger male reluctantly allowed his body to be twisted so he was facing the shower wall. He heard a low whistle escape the other along with a quiet chuckle, "Looks like someone gave you a _real_ good tanning."

"Don't wanna talk about it." Randy felt a hand rest on the back of his neck and guide his upper body forward so that his forehead touched the tiled wall. Without thinking, he brought up a hand to keep the washcloth in place. The hand on his neck trailed down his spine, followed by soft lips and kisses that made the younger male shiver and exhale quietly. He released a startled hiss when the hand brushed his ass, "John—"

"Shhh. Relax." Trailing his other hand down, the older male gently cupped each cheek, lightly rubbing the hot skin and eliciting a soft whimper from the male before him. Smiling to himself, John continued to lightly knead the area before placing a feathery kiss on either cheek, "I'm not gonna hurt ya, Ran."

A moment later, his hands slid down further and he felt Randy tense up and inhale sharply. The younger man was so tense he was damn near shaking by this point and John had to reach up to place a reassuring hand on his neck before he relaxed again. John knew he hated being in this kind of situation, not being in control. Randy liked control, being able to direct things around him and decide for himself how things in his own life would occur. Whether it be work, relationships or his emotions, Randy was a control freak and he hated losing that control.

And here he was with barely an ounce of his normal self-control with a guy who he knew could overpower him easily enough. Vulnerable. Of course he was tense, of course he was nervous. It was likely all the man could do to keep himself from completely freaking out up to this point. He knew John, trusted him, but right now he was probably struggling to remind himself.

"Babe... It's just me. I promise." Taking hold of Randy's free hand, he straightened and moved to the side so the other could feel him. First his chest, then abs, dipping just low enough to brush the edge of his (now soaked) jorts before coming up to feel his face, "See? Just me. Just John, your Johnny."

"...Yah."

It was barely breathed, but John took it as a sign to continue. He glanced around and grabbed the soap and another washcloth from nearby, lathering the cloth up before starting to wash Randy's back. Of course, the other jumped and started to pull away in protest, but the older male shushed him before continuing. John washed his shoulders and back, then his arms, methodically moving lower with the soft cloth until it was brushing over the abused skin once more.

Another whimper reached his ears, the other trying to shy away from the contact into the wall. John didn't let him, placing a steady hand on his hip to hold the other still as he gently kneaded the area through the washcloth. First left, then right, for a full minute before sliding down with feathery light contact to the curve of his ass and back of his thighs. Once again, Randy tensed at the contact and John started tracing soothing circles on the hip under his hand, kissing the small of the back before him. Slowly, he relaxed and John massaged that area as well, listening to quiet hisses and choked curses that passed from his lips.

After what seemed like forever to Randy, the fabric moved further down his legs, massaging every inch of flesh. He felt a bit weak in the knees receiving the attention after everything that had happened. Soon, John was lifting his feet one at a time to wash before reaching around and starting the process of washing his front, lips brushing along the tanned skin in back. John slowly worked his way back up the younger male's body, washing his legs thoroughly before brushing over his inner thigh and up to his stomach. Randy's hand dropped to his side, letting the washcloth he'd been holding over his eyes fall to the ground so he could see the other or, at least, his hands.

"John..."

Without saying a word, the older male straightened and wrapped his arms around Randy from behind, caressing the firm abdomen through the washcloth while his other hand trailed downwards. Finding his arms trapped at his sides in this position, Randy tensed and strained against the other. When John didn't relent against him, didn't even acknowledge it, he felt a shiver of nervous excitement run down his spine. The hand not holding the cloth dipped low, brushing along his inner thigh again. It came tantalizingly close to his cock before trailing up past it and over his abs once more. John idly traced designs over his pecs, letting the washcloth slip from his fingers and join the other on the floor. He kissed the scar on Randy's shoulder and ran his palms up and down the body in his arms, paying careful attention to the responses.

"C'mon, John..." It was barely a whisper, breathed out as Randy attempted to regain some of the control he relied on. The control he usually had over their relationship and typically anything else he involved himself with in life, the control he hated _not_ having. "We can't—I can't..."

The events of the day had stolen that control from him multiple times thus far. Not just by Hunter (John had no doubt that was who had blistered his ass), but also by McMahon who had informed Legacy they would be separated soon. No amount of protest had swayed the Chairman and John knew for a fact that had been what led Randy to act like a bigger ass then usual the entire day. He had likely singled out Hunter (and Shawn, by association) to take out his frustrations on and probably felt thoroughly thrown off and defeated by the response he had received.

Once again control was yanked out from under him and that control hadn't returned when Hunter finished, if the sight John had walked in on was anything to go by. The Randy that had stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights earlier had not been the confident and cocky young man he was accustomed to spending time with. His expression had gone through several different emotions before settling on relief when John simply brushed his own questions aside and offered to keep watch.

Now, with his arms wrapped securely around the younger man, John could feel the tension building. His breathing had a forced calmness to it, like he was measuring every inhale and exhale. The muscles beneath John's hands quivered with unreleased tension, little kisses being placed along the back of his neck and shoulders doing little to quail the obvious nerves. It made John's heart ache knowing the turmoil that his lover was in and he was determined to prove that a lack of control wasn't always a bad thing.

Nuzzling against the back of Randy's neck, John moved one hand lower while the other wrapped itself firmly around his waist, pinning the younger males wrists to his sides. He teased, taking his time and ignoring the halfhearted protests from the other. His fingers massaged the inside of a firm, tan thigh before pulling back again. Randy growled in impatience and tried to move away, hissing when John simply pulled him back, jorts rubbing against the still sensitive skin of his ass and making him jerk.

"Damn it, John! If you're going to insist on torturing me in the shower, at least undre—nngh!" He choked on his words and gasped out a moan as the older male suddenly grasped his cock and gave it a firm squeeze. "F-fuck."

"You know, for someone so reluctant and unhappy, you're as hard as a rock." John muttered, pumping the length in his hand steadily, thumb swirling around the head.

"God, Johnny..." A low moan left Randy's lips, his head tilting back against the other, earlier discomfort forgotten. John wouldn't let him stay that way, however, using his free hand to direct the younger male's head down.

"I want you to watch, Randy." His voice was soft but held a rare commanding undertone, "You need to see what I'm doing to you, not just feel it. I want you to watch knowing you can't do a damn thing but enjoy what's happening."

Randy groaned, his insides twisting with an odd kind of excitement he didn't want to acknowledge. He obediently trained his gaze downward and inhaled sharply. The sight of John's fist wrapped around his cock sent shivers down his spine and he couldn't stop himself from trying to thrust into the hold. A quiet laugh sounded by his ear before the other gripped his waist to once again hold him still.

"Ah-ah. We'll go at my pace, thanks." John murmured, kissing the spot behind his ear before continuing, "It makes you nervous with excitement, doesn't it? Watching, but not being able to do anything..." The hand slid up to the tip of his length, thumb dipping into the slit there and earning a delicious sounding moan from Randy, "Does it feel good, Randy? Do you like this?"

"John..." Randy bit down on his lower lip, worrying at it and feeling heat rise to his cheeks as a different kind of heat pooled in his center.

"Hmm? Answer me, babe. Do you like it?" John slowed down to a near tortuous pace, drawing out something between a choked whimper and a growl from the younger male.

"Y-yes. God, yes." Straining against the hold on his waist, Randy pressed his back further into John's chest, hands flexing, "Don't slow down, John. _Fuck._ Faster, Johnny, I-i want—damn, so good."

The request was granted, the hand gripping him starting to move at a furious pace, the water running over them mixing with precum to create a slick friction. His eyes widened, mesmerized as he watched John's hand, mouth falling open in the shape of an 'O'. He couldn't stop himself from jerking against the older male, eternally frustrated and turned on by the fact that it did no good. John's arm restricted his movements and the positioning made it difficult if not impossible to move his arms at all. He must have tried a dozen times already.

"When are you gonna stop testing my strength against yours?" John asked, amusement clear in his words. Randy wondered when the other had learned to read minds.

"Never. Damn, Johnny. I—more. I need more."

He was pulled closer, body molding perfectly into the older male's chest, a very prominent bulge pressing against the back of his thigh. Knowing that the other was thoroughly aroused helped to distract his attention from the pain that would otherwise serve as a reminder of his embarrassing encounter with Hunter. The stinging of his abused flesh coupled with the knowledge of what was causing it right that moment made him moan louder then before. John breathed a soft chuckle against his neck, then froze as a clicking noise floated over to them. The sudden loss of stimulation caused Randy to groan in protest, but his attention quickly shifted at the sound of the locker room door opening.

"You said you locked it!" He breathed out in a low voice, the pleasure haze in his mind clearing up quickly as his eyes widened.

"I _did_." John replied, not moving. He tightened his hold when Randy tried to pull away, making the younger male tense in anticipation.

"John? What are you doing, we need to—_nngh_!" Suddenly, John's hand started flying up and down his shaft, causing him inhale sharply and press back against the other.

"Nuh-uh, we're not done." The words made Randy's breath catch in his throat, heart pounding in his chest.

The sound of Hunter's annoyed voice in the next room did little to help his nerves, "_Who the hell had the bright idea of locking all our shit in here?"_

"Oh god, J-John. Johnny, I can't, I can't..." His lover didn't slow down and Randy had to bite down on his lip hard to suppress a moan when the hold on his waist vanished and was replaced with the feel of a hand fondling his sac. His newly freed hands reached back to grip John's hips and steady himself, fisting the wet jorts.

Shawn's voice joined Hunter's, _"Beats me, Hunt. Good thing you were able to get a key from that crew member, huh?"_

"Just gonna have to be quieter then the shower." John whispered against the back of his ear, turning them both around to face the direction of the locker room, "If you don't wanna get caught."

Randy groaned, bucking into the hand getting him off without any form of restraint. The prospect of getting caught shot thrills of excitement through him as well as dread. If Hunter and Shawn caught them it would probably be the final nail in his coffin of humiliation, but for whatever reason that risk made the situation that much more erotic. Coupled with everything John was doing to him, he found it difficult to keep quiet, releasing another moan that he prayed the water would drown out.

"_Hunter?"_

"_Huh? Oh. Yeah, good thing. Hey, did you hear something?"_

"Shit... Fuck, Johnny—I'm gonna... Gonna..."

"C'mon, baby, come for me." John murmured, squeezing as he worked furiously to bring the other to climax, "I want you to come. Now."

At his words a violent tremor ripped through Randy's body and his knees buckled as came with a strangled cry, head falling back. Streams of white exploded from him, splattering onto the tiled floor and being washed down the drain by the spray of the shower. John's hand left his sac and came up to wrap around his front once more, keeping them pressed together and holding the younger male up. After, the older male brought his hand up and licked it clean of any stray seed before placing a kiss on the neck before him.

The first thing Randy saw when he opened his eyes were a pair of smug degenerates in the direction of the locker room. Immediately, his cheeks turned bright red and he went from holding onto John's hips to elbowing him in the stomach. The older male grunted and lifted his gaze to meet Shawn and Hunter's, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips as he reached over to turn off the water.

"I'm going to kill you." Randy hissed, turning his head to the side to glare at the man behind him.

"There's the Randy I know and love. Welcome back." John countered, kissing the back of his shoulder and not taking his eyes off Hunter and Shawn, "Can we help you two?"

"Nope." Hunter had that doofus grin on his face that never failed to make Randy's blood boil, "We were just curious about those odd little noises coming from over here."

"But now we know it was just you two being naughty, so we'll just go now." Shawn smirked, winking at the two young wrestlers before turning to head back into the locker room, "C'mon, Hunt, let's leave the lovebirds alone. We'll lock the door on our way back out."

"Comin'." Hunter didn't move from his spot even after the other degenerate vanished from view, a smirk Randy knew all too well as 'trouble' overtaking his grin, "Piece of advice, Cena. Keep the pup off his back tonight. He'll probably be more comfortable, if you know what I mean."

Before either of them could fully register it, the man was gone. That didn't stop Randy from turning crimson with a combination of rage and embarrassment. Within seconds, John seemed to have read his mind once more and locked both arms around him in a vice grip, stumbling backward when the younger male exploded in a fury. He jerked forward, strained against the hold and flailed—even going so far as to kick back with one of his legs in attempt to get the other to let him go. The result being the two of them stumbling around the shower area in a barely controlled frenzy, curses streaming out of both males' lips.

"God damn it, Cena! Get the fuck off me!" Randy snapped, throwing his head back in an attempt to headbutt the other and missing. It did, however, succeed in making John finally lose his footing and sending both of them to the floor with a pair of pained groans.

"If you'd calm the fuck down I'd let you go." John growled out once he recovered from the fall, rolling them over so he could hold the other down on his stomach. He held Randy's hands down on either side and interlocked their legs, his middle hovering just above the younger male's prone form.

"The hell with calming down, I'm gonna kill him!" Despite being thoroughly pinned, Randy did his best to buck and throw the other off.

John responded by laying flat against him, the weight of the older male pinning him down and forcing him to lay still. He gasped softly, chest heaving as he tried and failed to move his body before finally giving up and laying his head on the tiled floor to glare at the wall. It was infuriating, the way the other could predict when he was going to lose it; even more so in that the shorter male could take him down so thoroughly. The longer they laid there, the angrier he felt himself become and the faster his heart beat.

After a moment, Randy felt kisses being placed along the back of his neck and shoulders. The hands holding his down changed their hold, fingers interlacing with his own. John shifted above him, coarse fabric of the shorts moving roughly against his ass and reigniting the painful discomfort that had been lingering there before he'd fallen into his fit of rage. Biting down on his lip, Randy swallowed a pained groan and closed his eyes as his lover continued showering his back with kisses.

"I hate you..." He received a chuckle, the older male continuing to move slowly down his body until he was no longer of mind to fight. John's bare chest slowly replaced the fabric that had been rubbing against his ass, the contact with the heated skin making him hiss softly.

"I know." It wasn't until he felt a palm splayed out and pressing down on his lower back as John slid further down his body that Randy realized his hands were free. Right before his lover's lips came into contact with his abused flesh. Quick, light kisses were peppered everywhere, there was hardly any pressure but it was still enough to make him squirm uncomfortably.

"John—"

"Hold still." John cut him off, tone similar to earlier with that commanding undertone that sent shivers down Randy's spine.

He brought his arms up and crossed them under his head, burying his face in them and willing himself to do as told. A moment passed where he could only feel John's warm breath against his skin before he felt a hand running over his ass cheeks, sliding between them. Randy tensed, feeling the hand on his lower back slide down to join the other in spreading him. This was a new experience for him, having John be the one taking control and exercising this level of dominance. Even when Randy wasn't on top, John never just _took_ control—and he wasn't sure how he felt about it.

Randy's musings were abruptly derailed when he felt something wet probe his hole. His entire body tensed and jerked, but John steadied him with a hand on his hip and continued as if it had never happened. The tongue swirled around his entrance before once again pressing against it, not quite offering enough pressure to enter. Randy's mind had gone blank for the moment, the sensation of his lover's actions combining with his shock to override his thought processes. It didn't fully register what was happening until the wet muscle finally pushed past the puckered ring and delved into him.

"F-fuck." He gasped out, quickly followed by a moan as John's tongue worked in and out of him. His hands curled into fists beneath his head as he fought to keep some level of control. All he wanted to do was push back, gain more of that wonderful stimulation, but the hands on his hips would ensure things kept to John's pace. "_Johnny_."

His near-inaudible plea for more was granted and after a moment longer teasing him, John pulled away from his entrance and tugged lightly on Randy's hips. Immediately, he sat up on his knees and cast a look over his shoulder at his lover. Their bodies were pressed back to front again and this time, no coarse jean material was to be found between their skin. He had no idea how or when the other had managed to get rid of his jorts, but Randy was damn glad. John's erection pressed prominently against him, making him shiver with need, his hands reaching back to grip the other's thighs for balance as they locked eyes.

"Fuck me."

The older man grinned and Randy felt two fingers thrust up into him suddenly, scissoring and stretching him even more. His head tilted back and he pressed down on them as they moved in and out. They barely brushed over that bundle of nerves inside of him, a gasp escaping his lips. John smirked, attacking the spot over and over with his fingers, pressing against it for a couple seconds at a time, massaging it repeatedly. Randy moaned without restraint, whimpering at the torturous stimulation, the other showing no signs of moving faster.

"_Johnny_." It came out as a keen whine, the stimulation bringing him nearly to the edge of release, something that he didn't want without having his brains fucked out first.

"Patience, babe." John placed a kiss on the back of his neck, nibbling the skin there before adding a third finger and making the younger male groan with intense need. "Come for me again, then I'll fuck you."

"Damn it—I want you _now_." Randy moaned loudly as his ass was stretched further, his lover once more attacking his prostate mercilessly. God, it was too much. "Wanna... Come with you..."

"Shhh... Soon. You will. We'll get there." John's free hand reached around his front and grasped his leaking cock, making him cry out in both surprise and ecstasy. "Come for me now, Randy. Right. Now."

His last two words punctuated by rough, fast pumps. Almost immediately, he was sent flying over the edge, white spurts shooting from the head of his dick as John once again pulled everything he had to give from his body. John didn't give any time for him to recover, his fingers vanishing from inside Randy only to be replaced quickly by his cock in one smooth, hard thrust that caused the Viper cry out. He stayed there, fully sheathed inside his lover, kissing the back of Randy's neck as they adjusted until the tattooed male started to grow impatient and attempted to buck his hips. Of course, the older male placed his hands on the other's hips to once more hold him still, to keep the activity at the pace _he_ wanted to take.

"John, shit. Please. _Move_." He chuckled against the back of Randy's neck before pulling out slowly, earning an impatient growl. John left him almost completely before snapping his hips forward to ram into the other with perfect accuracy once more. Randy's head snapped back and his vision whited out for a moment, "Fuck!"

"Already got that covered." From that point, John wasted no time or restraint. Despite the thorough preparation, Randy still felt so tight that it was almost painful. He rammed in and out of the other with as much speed and power as he could muster, creating an intense mixture of pain and pleasure for the younger male.

Their skin slapping together hard and fast ignited a fiery pain in Randy's already abused flesh that was countered as every thrust slammed his prostate. It was painful in a pleasurable way and at the same time—so pleasurable that it was painful. Randy was lost in the experience, thrusting backwards in time with John to push him impossibly deeper. The hands on his hips had moved, one wrapping around his chest to keep him upright on his knees while the other snaked down to grip his cock.

It was almost too much for him when he felt that familiar grip on his length again so soon, crying out with something between a yell and a moan. He had long since lost any form of restraint on the noises he was making, overwhelmed by the entire experience. John's grunts and moans directly in his ear only served to push him closer to the edge. Then John started talking again.

"God, Randy, I wish you could see how gorgeous you are like this. Without control, being dominated. It's so hot, Ran."

"Feels so good, Johnny." Randy gasped out, alternating between thrusting into the hand around him and back onto John's cock, "Fuck, it feels good. I'm gonna—"

He wasn't given a chance to finish as John's fist clenched around his cock, sending him over the edge yet again. The other's name left his lips in a guttural cry in the same moment John went stock still and moaned out his own. They stayed like that for a few minutes before John pulled out, slowly climbing to a stand and pulling Randy up with him. The younger man leaned on him, wincing with every movement as the pleasure started to subside and make way for the overwhelming, stinging soreness of his ass.

Psychic, as always, John smiled and pulled him closer, hands gently cupping his ass and kneading it as he guided them back under the shower head. He turned on the water and instantly a warm spray shot down on them. Randy sighed softly, resting his forehead on John's shoulder and running his hands over the other's well-toned body. With everything that had occurred over the course of the day—traveling, Vince's news about Legacy and subsequent stress, his match, Hunter and then the most recent events with John... He felt spent and was perfectly happy to lean there, running his hands up and down his partner's body forever.

"You feelin' better, now?" John asked, idly tapping Randy's chin with his hand so he would make eye contact, "I'm sure we could go another round if you're not..."

Feeling a hand brush lightly over his cock which was still very sensitive after three orgasms in such close succession, Randy groaned softly and jerked a bit. Now he knew how John felt when he had done this to him, making the other come repeatedly with little recovery time between and how sensitive John had been after. He briefly recalled John promising to give him the experience in return, with interest. Something that had made Randy give him a challenging, cocky grin before they had drifted to sleep. It had been an exciting prospect then, but now he was certain that was the last thing he wanted.

"I'm feeling better." He reassured catching his lover's wrist and bringing his hand up to kiss his fingers.

"You sure? Because you've been pretty bent out of shape all fucking night." John wrapped his free hand around his waist, pulling him closer so their groins were touching and Randy's breath hitched, "I'm pretty sure I haven't blown your mind completely, yet. I owe you, after all."

"Jesus, John, I don't think I can." They were nearly the same exact words that had been uttered to him a week ago. He had ignored them optimistically (cruelly) at the time and was now hoping that John's more sympathetic, kind nature would make him do the opposite.

"Oh, you can. I'm sure of it." John suddenly smashed their lips together, catching Randy off guard as he flipped them around and slammed him back into the shower wall.

The younger man grunted, returning the kiss enthusiastically despite his protest not long beforehand. He was just now realizing the fact that they hadn't kissed once since John had walked in on him earlier. It became heated quickly and when John started to pull away, Randy growled and placed a hand on the back of his head to pull him back. The older male chuckled softly against his lips but complied, re-initiating the kiss and taking over without a second thought. He pressed close against the perfectly sculpted tanned flesh, running a hand down to once again brush over the sensitive flesh there and causing Randy to jerk against him as much as was possible in his current sandwiched position between John and the wall.

The younger man quickly used his free hand to try and grab John's wrist to stop him only to have said hand caught and pinned. John swallowed his weak protests and whimpered moans as he lightly stroked the sensitive member. When Randy finally removed the hand from the back of his head to try again, John simply pulled away from the kiss. The younger man growled in frustration, leaning forward to try and keep the kiss going as long as possible. Randy received a full-dimpled grin for his efforts as his other hand was pinned against the wall as well.

"Hm... I seem to be out of hands. Tricky of you." John muttered, looking down at their interlocked hands with a mock-frown before glancing up at the slightly victorious and very much relieved look on his boyfriend's features, "I guess I'll just have to use something else."

"Something... Oh God." Randy's breath hitched as John dropped to his knees and leaned forward to place a kiss on his flaccid cock, sending a shiver up his spine, "John, don't—" He cut off into a sharp cry, jerking wildly when John took the head in his mouth and sucked hard. "Shit! Shit, Johnny, sto—ahh-haahh..."

Gasped and whimpered moans escaped his lips as John continued with the harsh suction, working to pull more of the quickly hardening flesh into his mouth. Part of John wanted to pull back and swallow the noises he was earning with another kiss, but the last thing he wanted was to stop what he was doing. Looking up, he hummed deep in his throat at the sight of Randy. His head tilted back against the wall, eyes closed tight and his face screwed up into an expression that plainly stated what he was experiencing.

The stimulation of John's mouth around his hypersensitive cock, sucking and humming, sent high-voltage shocks of pleasure to his system in rapid bursts, the experience so intense that it was on a completely different level of pain. John knew for a fact that if he asked if he should stop or not, Randy wouldn't have the slightest clue what he wanted. It was the kind of experience you wanted to jerk away from because of the painful intensity that only built the longer it went on, while at the same time...

"Fuck. Fuck, Johnny, I'm close—I can't—" Randy's hips shot forward, forcing himself all the way into the wet heat of John's mouth. John deep-throated him and swallowed, the walls of his throat constricting around the cock seated there. It was enough, the younger male came with a cry, his knees buckling as he muttered the others name like a mantra, "John, John, Johnny_—John_."

John smiled, releasing hands in favor of hips and swallowing the substance before pulling back to suck on the head of his cock, making sure he took every last bit that Randy had to give. He continued suckling until his lover whimpered faintly and tugged on his head. Pulling off with a wet 'pop!', he stood up again and kissed the other. It was a slow but deep kiss, their tongues dancing together easily as John let Randy taste himself.

By the time they pulled apart again John had the soap in hand and let his lover slump against him, keeping an arm wrapped securely around his waist as he started to clean up. Randy was content to hang off of the older man for a few minutes as he slowly recovered from his fourth orgasm in under an hour. Then, once he was sure he could move on his own, he detached from John with a kiss and headed back towards the locker room. It wasn't as though he hadn't already washed (or been washed, whatever) and him leaning on John would only hinder the other from showering.

When John emerged from the shower five minutes later, it was to find Randy, now clad in a pair of sweatpants, fast asleep on the bench. The Viper had lain down on his stomach, head pillowed on one arm while the other hung down to the floor. He was out cold, mouth hanging open slightly and one leg threatening to fall off the bench.

"Shoulda stayed in the shower... Damn." Shaking his head, John got dressed quickly before packing up his bag and shouldering it along with Randy's. Then he moved over to wake the other, bending over to place a kiss on his lips, catching the lower one between his teeth and tugging lightly before murmuring, "C'mon, Champ. Gotta get to the car and on the road to the hotel."

Randy growled, eyes fluttering open to glare at John blearily before he sighed and rolled off the bench to his feet, "...You're driving."

"Already had that figured out, gorgeous." John chuckled, handing over the other's bag and letting him drape an arm around his shoulders as they unlocked the door and finally headed to the parking lot, "Like I was going to put your sorry ass behind the wheel."

"My ass, is not sorry." Randy mumbled, tossing his bag into the back seat before sliding to sit gingerly in the passenger seat. A low hiss of discomfort left him and he cast a glare at his partner, who had raised an eyebrow, "...Maybe it's a little sorry. But that's your fuckin' fault."

"My _fucking_ fault, indeed." John grinned, winking as he slid into the driver's side before adding, "But we could probably credit some of it to Hunter."

"I don't want to even think about that bastard."

John just shrugged, smirking slightly, "I don't know, I might have to thank him for giving me a chance to show you that it ain't bad not to have control... Not to mention stopping you from getting yourself into some real serious shit with that on-going tantrum you've been having today. A lot of the guys were coming to me about that."

"A lot of the guys need to shut their traps..." Randy grumbled, shifting slightly in his seat in attempt to get comfortable as they headed for the hotel a few hours away.

He felt sensitive on two sides now, the fabric of his sweatpants rubbing against his over stimulated cock and sending small jolts through him that he could barely stand in combination with his throbbing ass. When John reached over to rest a hand on his thigh, it sent a shiver coursing through his body. God, how could he be so high strung after everything the other did to him in the showers? The hand gave a small squeeze and Randy turned his head to look into the faintly smiling features of his lover.

"Get some sleep, Ran. You're gonna need it, because I am by no means done with you tonight." John chuckled at his disbelieving expression and raised an eyebrow. "I did tell you it'd come with interest, didn't I? You just think those pants feel uncomfortable now—you ain't gonna wanna put anything on tomorrow."

"Uh-uh. I'm spent, Johnny."

"That's why I'm giving you a chance to recover." The older man winked and Randy groaned softly at the thought of what would happen when they finally made it to the hotel.

"You're gonna sex me to death."

"At least you'll die happy."


End file.
